


Random Ficlets

by Couch__Potato, TheAmused



Category: Bleach, Hetalia: Axis Powers, Naruto, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: America/England Feels (Hetalia), Angst, Blink And You Miss It Slash, Ficlet Collection, Gen, M/M, One Shot Collection, Sick Kurosaki Ichigo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25641466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Couch__Potato/pseuds/Couch__Potato, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAmused/pseuds/TheAmused
Summary: Just a bunch of random prompts-turned-ficlets traded between TheAmused and Couch__Potato.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia), Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Kudos: 2





	1. Bleach - Soul Sick (TheAmused)

**Author's Note:**

> Fandom: Bleach  
> Character: Ichigo  
> Random Prompt: Fuzzy blanket

It was fairly clear that Ichigo was not feeling well. It was not an illness of the body, though, that was ailing him but one of the soul. Quite literally, actually. At some point in his travels of the outer districts surrounding Seireitei while in his soul form, Ichigo managed to catch something incredibly rare - a cold. Somehow, the minor cold then led to his human body catching the virus, and now he is at home, suffering from something that hurts his soul more than it hurts his human body. 

Groaning quietly, he rolls onto his side and wraps his arms around his stomach, even though what he is feeling makes him in no way nauseous; it is just where his soul chain used to be that aches. The only reason he has not contacted Urahara yet, though, is because it feels nothing like when his soul chain literally started eating itself. Instead, if feels more like the ache of a nasty flu rather than the gnawing hunger of Hollowification. And if he went to Urahara for help, Urahara would likely make him eat or drink something nasty, poke him a lot, and generally make him feel worse.

_Colds go away; Hat-and-Clogs doesn't._

If it gets worse, he may reconsider, but for now, he is just going to stay home and try not to give into the urge to leave his body since it did not help when he tried it earlier. He has no school today, his father is out of town for a medical convention, and his sisters are spending the night at a friend's house. So, with no responsibilities or anything else to make him rise from his bed, he grabs the fuzzy blanket by his feet, pulls it up to his shoulders, and falls back asleep. 


	2. LoZ(BoTW) - A Book Titled "Fishing for Dreamers"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: LoZ - Breath of the Wild  
> Character: Zelda  
> Random Prompt: A Book Titled "Fishing for Dreamers"

Gentle fingers brushed against the rough rocks, the stream flowly loudly along side them. Zelda, in all her wisdom, could not get over that she specifically told Link not to go back to get a book after a battle. Or rather, told him four times. Still, she walked behind him as he held the old book in his gloved hand to protect it from further being thrown by her.

"Please?" Was all he whispered after retrieving it the last time she threw it. Zelda was furious at him. Could he not listen? Take a simple order? Of course not. She had to know why he went through so much trouble for this one book, nearly fell into some of that black goop from Ganon's revival. Zelda loved a good book as much as the next person, but she did not see the point of nearly dying for one. She left many good books behind before, and as sad as she was, she is alive. 

Blinking and coming back from her thoughts, she saw Link standing in front of a lake. Taking the fishing rod from his backpack, he sat on a log and stared at the water. Zelda knew it was rare for him to speak, so she didn't expect him to whenever she asked him questions. "May I see your book? I promise not to throw it." Zelda spoke quietly, now realizing she probably should not have throw the book before seeing why it was special to him. 

Seeing Link side-eye her, she sat next to him and tried to give her most charming smile. He responded with a small sigh and handed her the old book, not letting it leave his line of sight. Zelda rolled her eyes but looked at the cover, Fishing for Dreamers, it read. Opening to the first page, she saw sign was 'King Daphnes'. "Father," she choked out. Link had been nothing but kind and she tried to destroy what he was keeping safe for her. A small smile found her quivering lips as she withdrew her pride and hugged the book to her chest. "Thank you."


	3. Naruto - Sasori's Workshop (TheAmused)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Naruto  
> Character: Deidara  
> Random Prompt: Loose papers

Deidara was, for all intents and purposes, never supposed to set foot in Sasori's workshop. The puppet always threw a fit whenever Deidara tried to sneak his way in and made it very clear that if he ever caught the blond in there, Pein would need to find a new member. However, what Sasori does not know could...well, it could almost definitely hurt him, but in this case, what Sasori does not know will not hurt _Deidara,_ and that is what really matters. Besides, it is not like he is planning to do anything _bad;_ he just wants to see what Sasori is trying so hard to hide in there.

_Maybe it's something really cool._

His hopes are quickly dashed, however, when, after peeking through the door, all he finds is an empty work bench, a boring chair, and a wall full of paper. When he opens the door wider, though, he realizes that there is also a shelf that was mostly hidden by the door, and it is full of vials. Now, he knows what they are, as it is not hard to guess that Sasori would keep his poisons somewhere safe, and his workshops is probably the safest place there is since no one in the base - Deidara aside - would dare break into it. Plus, it is not like anyone else in the base uses poisons, so there is no one around to steal them for personal use. 

So, swinging the door wide open, Deidara quickly steps into the room, only to freeze when, to his dismay, the force of air causes the papers that were apparently not as secured to the wall as Deidara assumed to fly off. They float around the room before most of them land on the floor. And even further to his dismay, the ones that do not land on the floor fly...out the very open window. The window he failed to notice because it, like the shelf, was on the wall previously blocked by the door. Cursing, Deidara runs to the window in time to see the pages being carried off to the ground at the base of the tower, and just as he sighs in relief - he can easily retrieve those - a gust of wind catches them, and they quickly disappear from sight. 

Cursing again, Deidara quickly grabs all the papers and hastily pins them up on the wall, uncaring that they are probably out of order. And then, after making sure the room looks mostly undisturbed, he dashes out of the room and into his own, intent on pretending that he was never there in the first place. If Sasori asks, Deidara will just play dumb, and maybe the puppet will then assume a bird came through the window and stole them or something. Meanwhile, Sasori climbs in through his workshop's open window and pulls the papers that flew out back to him using the chakra strings he attached to them. 

_Serves the brat right for thinking he could sneak in._


	4. FMA: Don't forget.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist   
> Character: Edward Elric  
> Random Prompt: You're walking down to the store when something falls from the sky.

The headache grew after he left the second time that day. The sun was bright and his hand was cramped. All this pain, why you ask? Winry. Edwards' eye brow twitched as he remembered the events that took place this morning..

**"Ed!" a shrill voice screamed from the balcony. "You didn't..." and after that phrase, no way was Edward standing around to feel the rest of her wrath. Sprinting into action towards the front door, the blonde male twisted his foot into the carpet beneath him to stop the woman behind him. She successfully face-planted into the ground from the rugs tug, giving the smirking male a small head start. Alas, he forgot is she always carried a wrench with her.**

**"Ow, Winry no!" Edward exclaimed after being hit in the head and falling himself. She didn't need to say words on why she was angry, she merely placed the empty glass jar in front of him as he sighed. "I know, I know. You're mad. I'm sorry-" he began with the upmost sincere apology only to have his braid pulled. He hated how she knew when he was lying. "What do you want from me! Having that gross stuff in the house while I'm here makes me think you hate me!" Edward cried out as his brow furrowed from the lingering smell of his worst enemy. Milk.**

**After hearing a long drawn out explanation over how 'important' the white gunk was, Winry had decided to send him to the store, because it was a punishment of some sort. "Brother, you shouldn't have poured out the milk, just because you don't like it, doesn't mean she doesn't. Winry loves the stuff!" Al joyfully rubbed his stomach. However, Edward was not in the mood to argue because in the farthest reaches of his mind, he knew he was a little wrong. That did cost her money and she works hard for what she has. Ed looking longingly at his new arm, all the new parts she spent money on so that he wouldn't get hurt again.**

**"Yeah, yeah. But that doesn't make me her errand boy." Ed huffed and decided to get the rest of her things but not the dreaded cow juice. His eye twitched at the thought but pushed that aside and continued on his shopping.**

Shaking his head, appearing from his memories, Edward grimaced remembering when he got back, all the yelling she did. "It's like she doesn't do anything else but yell Al-" he paused with a roll of his eyes as he turned hearing his named yelled from the door. It was then something came in contact with his forehead.

"Don't forget the milk this time." Laying on the ground, staring at the empty glass, he only heard snickers. _Note to self: Don't forget the cow juice._


	5. Hetalia - Not Again (The Amused)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Hetalia  
> Character: UK x America  
> Prompt: Deja Vu

Arthur Kirkland is...worried, to say the least. However, though the state of his land and its people is giving him an unpleasant case of indigestion because of some disagreement between the political parties, that is not what has him worried. After all, he is old enough to know that something like this is unlikely to last for long, as the instability has always solved itself. So, no, what he is worried about is not himself; what he is worried about is Alfred F. Jones, and that is why, when his boss mentioned sending a new ambassador to the United States, Arthur volunteered to go with him as a show of good faith.

_Not that it really has anything to do with good faith, but if it will stop Alfred's boss from looking too closely, then there is no reason to reveal the true cause of his visit._

Normally, Arthur would have no reason to visit the United States, especially since he has been very careful to only set foot on American soil when absolutely necessary ever since the Revolutionary War. Even during the War of 1812, Arthur had refused to set foot on Alfred's land, as it never fails to open old wounds. For that reason, it has always been Alfred who would visit him, as for Alfred, it was similar to merely visiting a childhood home...

_...before violently moving out and destroying-_

Arthur shakes his head and reminds himself that it was all in the past. While he misses how close they used to be when Alfred was still one of his colonies, he is proud of what America has become; it is just the bad memories from still-healing wounds that sometimes make it hard to remember. Perhaps if he had visited Alfred more frequently rather than having Alfred visit him, the wounds would have felt more like faded scars than fresh ones, but better late than never, Arthur supposes, as he steps off the private plane in Washington D.C. with his newest ambassador.

_Too bad the last one 'resigned'; he was an interesting man._

_~ ~ ~_

Though Arthur was expecting Alfred to be present to greet him when he landed, neither Alfred's boss nor any of those attending the greeting party know where Alfred has gone, and that only worries Arthur more. After all, the entire reason he became worried in the first place was due to fact that Alfred has not been attended any of the world meetings in the past few months, and America _always_ attends those unless he has a very good reason not to. Sure, he is sometimes late arriving, but he still attends because those are some of the few chances that Arthur and Alfred have to see each other without having to plan diplomatic trips to visit one another.

So, now more worried than before, Arthur departs from his party at the earliest chance he gets to hail a cab to take him to the address he remembers as Alfred's last known residence. Since he learned the address in the early 1900s, Arthur is a little concerned that the house may have changed, but since countries seldom change residences unless the capital changes - which Arthur knows it has not, as D.C. may have grown, but the Alfred would not have moved far from where his boss resides - he hopes that means that Alfred would not have suddenly moved out. At least, not without telling his closest ally. 

However, when Arthur arrives at the house, he begins to wonder if he should have just asked Alfred's boss if the other country had changed residences recently, as the lights are all out despite it being just after dark, much too early for America to be sleeping, and the property looks empty of its usual energy. Even the plants seem less...alive than usual, as the last time Arthur saw them, he would have said they flourished. However, nothing nearby is flourishing, and that alone is concerning. Maybe Alfred did just move out, and the current owner is horrible with plants, but...if he did not, Arthur is not sure he likes what the dying plants might mean in relation to his fellow country.

After paying the cab driver, Arthur approaches the house, walks up the three creaky steps, and knocks on the door. "Alfred?" He calls softly, even though he knows the other country would not be able to hear him. Alfred would, however, be able to feel him - should have been able to feel him from the moment he entered this land, but now only more so since he is on Alfred's literal doorstep. If Alfred is here and not out travelling the world to meet with other countries - something Arthur would have heard about days ago from their mutual allies, unless Alfred, in a fit of insanity, decided to visit Ivan, the non-ally America sometimes gets along with - then he should know that Arthur is here to see him.

_And he should come answer the damn door._

Arthur's unconsciously starts tapping his foot against the ground, the sound muffled by the stupidly-patriotic doormat with a slightly dirtied 'Welcome!' scrawled in white on a red and blue background. For a moment, he lets himself be distracted by the mat as he wonders about the intelligence of making a doormat patriotic, as it seems more like an insult to wipe dirty feet on than a good idea, but Alfred is not always the best when it comes to foresight, so he likely just bought it for the sake of pride over practicality. Just as he starts to wonder if someone in his country made anything so brazenly patriotic, he hears a shuffle from the other side of the door, and his breath catches in relief. 

That breath leaves him in almost a wheeze, however, when the door opens to reveal disheveled Alfred, who is huddled under a blanket, and all of Arthur's witty greetings disappear in a moment of numbed fear. _Alfred hasn't looked this bad since...since..._

Memories of Alfred's Civil War come to mind, as though he did not witness the war in person, he saw the newspapers and was there for the other country when Alfred started falling apart from all the in-fighting. It had been America's first major civil war, and while most of the older countries had experiences a handful or two, along with any number of revolutions, the first one is always the hardest, and Alfred took his harder than most, especially with the loss of his boss so shortly after the fighting was put to an end. It was a hard time for Alfred, and now that Arthur is thinking about it, America's internal politics have been...in turmoil as of late. So much hatred for the country from within, so much resentment towards Alfred's boss - though Arthur has to say he agrees - so much in-fighting...

_Oh, no..._

Alfred must see the dawning realization on Arthur's face, as he looks down at the floor. "It's happening again," America whispers, his voice cracking as he wraps the blanket around himself tighter.

Arthur swallows thickly because, though nothing is set in stone and it may yet not happen, Alfred does not look...healthy. His glasses - Texas, as he called them - are dim, his hair is unkempt, and his eyes are dull. "Oh, Alfred," Arthur says, stepping over the threshold and into the other country's house. He pulls the taller country into his arms and runs a hand through Alfred's messy hair. "It's okay, Alfred. I'm here now, and it will be okay."

And then he gently kicks the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was kind of inspired by current events, but don't take it out of context; this is not in favor of any particular political party or leadership of either England or the States. This is just how I picture the countries would feel.

**Author's Note:**

> A little while ago, Couch_Potato and I (TheAmused) came up with the idea of practicing and improving our writing by emailing ficlets of varying size back and forth following receiving a prompt from the other. We decided to upload them here as well for the sake of feedback and your enjoyment. There might be a new one every few days, but sometimes weeks might pass before one of us has time (or inspiration) to create a new one.
> 
> If you want to use an idea from these ficlets, feel free to ask.


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